Against the Giants

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  They have two heads each! Lhors realized.

  Agya tapped his arm sharply to sign the same information a breath later.

  The creatures were huge, built rather like men. Atop their massive, black-skinned shoulders, were two heads, and each head faced a different direction. There would be no sneaking past two such guards.

  Malowan edged forward to join Nemis, who stood in shadow watching the guards. The two men conversed in cautious sign. As Vlandar came over to join them, Nemis signed, Wait here.

  Before the warrior could find out what the mage wanted to do, Nemis strode into the dim torchlight. Vlandar gave the paladin an astonished look, and Malowan gestured, Wait.

  The creatures might have been fearsome in appearance, but they didn’t seem too bright. Perhaps one brain was divided among two heads.

  The creatures both saw the mage at the same moment and simply stared at him. Nemis moved out into the hall and turned partway around. Lhors could see him give the creatures a toothy smile as he said, “Well, if it isn’t my old friends, Meghos and Zogry.”

  One head each stared at him still, but the other two shifted back to keep watch over the vast chamber and its passages. Vlandar froze as one head seemed to linger on the shadow where they hid. When it moved on without raising a cry, he drew back into deeper darkness, bringing his company with him. Malowan whispered something against his ear. Vlandar nodded and gestured with his free hand for Lhors to stay where he was. A moment later, Vlandar eased along the shadows of the wall and began to move slowly but purposefully toward Nemis and the guards.

  Malowan touched Lhors’ arm. “There are spears,” he whispered. “See them?”

  Lhors looked where the paladin pointed. The ettins had long weapons leaning against the wall. Lhors nodded carefully.

  “Rowan and Vlandar will create a diversion while Nemis keeps the noise contained. You get one of the spears and kill one of those creatures. Can you?”

  Lhors swallowed dread and nodded again.

  “How tha’ little man know us?” one creature said, diverting the youth’s attention. It spoke Common, but with a thick accent made worse because it seemed to be missing most of its front teeth. Its other head came around to stare at Nemis.

  “What, Meghos? You don remember the boy you used to stalk through the lowest caverns? The mage’s ’prentice you ’ad so much fun terrifying, down there?”

  “Cannot be,” the second replied promptly. “’E’s got a beard an’ ’e’s lots bigger.”

  “Much bigger,” Nemis corrected him gravely, “and you’ve come up in Snurre’s graces.”

  “Uh?” both asked blankly.

  “You guard Snurre,” Nemis said with another flash of teeth. “How sad,” he added incisively, the smile vanishing on the moment, “that you will not be able to enjoy the task any longer.”

  “’Ere!” The first snorted indignantly. “You insulting us?”

  Nemis shrugged and smiled.

  Vlandar had come up right behind the creatures in utter silence, unnoticed by either. He ran forward with two swords drawn, and before the awkwardly shaped ettin was properly aware of its danger, Vlandar was inside his reach, both blades stabbing up into the creature’s back. The creature howled in pain, but the sound was somehow flat and muffled.

  Nemis is shielding sound, Lhors reminded himself as he slid along the wall. He watched as Vlandar let go his blades and leaped back just as Rowan drew her bow. The ranger ran into the open and began loosing arrows at the heads of the second creature.

  Now or never! Lhors ran along the wall to snatch up one of the long spears. The first ettin fell to the floor, but the second must have seen Lhors moving, for it turned and charged with a vicious roar. So terrified that he couldn’t even scream, Lhors planted the spear’s base against the wall and lowered the point. The ettin tried to stop at the last moment, but one of Rowan’s arrows plunged into its groin, causing the brute to fall. The point of Lhors’ spear went in beneath one of the ettin’s jaws, angling up into its skull. The spearhead must have slammed into the back of the giant’s skull, because the shaft suddenly bent and broke with a massive snap!

  The youth dropped the broken shaft as the creature fell. Breathing heavily, he leaned against the wall with the dead ettin only inches from his feet. Above the nasty stench that was everywhere in this land, he could smell the rough cast-iron reek of the blood pooling on the floor.

  Rowan came over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him away.

  Lhors glanced back over his shoulder: Vlandar gazed expressionlessly at the dead ettins. He’d already retrieved his blades. Vlandar and Nemis joined them moments later.

  “My silence spell still holds. The king’s throne is there.” Nemis pointed out the dais at the opposite end of the long hall. “Obviously, he is elsewhere. There is a hiding place he has behind the throne somewhere in that wall. The rest I do not know, except that there are guards on all the passages.” He turned north and was quiet a moment. “The stairway down is that way.”

  “Where’s the king, d’you think?” Khlened asked. He’d drawn his berserker sword.

  “Uncertain,” Nemis said. “He could be anywhere. Unlike Nosnra, he does not keep regular hours, and he often prowls his halls alone or with a guard or two.”

  “Fine,” Agya said angrily. “I feel mighty safe now.”

  “You’ve no business feeling safe here,” Malowan reminded her. “What next, Vlandar? Do we—?”

  He never finished the sentence. Nemis murmured a hasty spell that extinguished the ettins’ torches as loud footsteps echoed and the creak of armor suddenly filled the hall. Somewhere to the east, a door slammed.

  “Remember what I said,” Nemis rasped to Vlandar. “Safest thing is to kill Snurre.”

  “I agree,” Vlandar whispered. “But let’s see who and what guards him before we attack.”

  He led the company back to where the ettins lay and settled behind the nearest, sword drawn. The rest of the company found what hiding they could as four torch-carrying guards came into sight at the hall’s far end.

  Lhors swallowed dryly. The shortest of them was over twice his height. All were ebony-black and looked very professional.

  In their midst, walked a very odd figure indeed. He was shorter than his guards, but powerfully muscled and clad in black armor. Tusk-like teeth gleamed in the torchlight, and his moustache and beard were nearly the same unpleasant orange-moss shade as his teeth.

  Agya stiffened as two enormous dogs paced along with him, sniffing the air suspiciously. Both hounds had very deep red hides, and their eyes glowed with a hellish light. Malowan laid a reassuring hand on her arm and carefully indicated Nemis—the mage was using his beneath notice spell on the party.

  The tusked giant flipped a white, leathery cloak aside so he could sit, then adjusted his black iron crown and drew a massive, thick-bladed sword. He settled the sword upright on the dais before him and rested his forearms on the crosspiece. The hounds dropped to the floor by his feet and closed their eyes, but they seemed no less alert.

  “Snurre?” Vlandar whispered despite Nemis’ silence spell.

  The mage nodded grimly.

  One of the guards moved off to light torches placed in the back wall, throwing the throne room in a ruddy orange light. An ornately carved flaming skull decorated the wall immediately behind the throne, and the other walls were carved in various battle scenes.

  Khlened tightened his grip on his morning star and began to move forward, but Nemis tugged at the barbarian’s hair. “Wait until he takes off that cloak. It’s dragon-hide, and he’s less of a threat if it isn’t on him!”

  The barbarian nodded agreement.

  The mage waited for some moments, then glanced at Vlandar and nodded. Vlandar drew a hand across his throat, and Khlened grinned cheerfully. The dwarf loosed his axe, and Rowan knelt quietly to arrange arrows onto the floor by her knee. Maera pressed a listless Florimund behind her as she freed her javelins.

  Wh
en everyone was ready, Nemis stepped toward the dais, and the rest of the party charged. One of the hounds growled a warning—the only advance notice Snurre and his guards had of the attack. The second dog went down before it could properly get to its feet as Maera’s spear plunged into its chest.

  Snurre stared down at his pet in shock, then shouted an order. Like other sounds, it sounded flat to Lhors, as if it didn’t carry very far. The guards could certainly see the invaders, though. They came around the throne, weapons at the ready, and the other dog surged to its feet. It whined faintly when its master snarled out an order and abruptly retreated behind the throne, dragging at a lever on the wall. Part of the wall swung into an utter blackness into which Snurre leaped. The hound spun around and loped after Snurre. The two vanished into darkness, and the wall clicked shut behind them.

  There were three guards still left, but one was foolish enough to turn away—making sure his king was safe, Lhors thought. Bracing himself for impact, Lhors shoved his spear deep into the monster’s leg, just below the knee and angling up. The giant went down hard as Lhors leaped away.

  Vlandar ran forward and brought his sword down two-handed across the brute’s neck. The guard did not move again, but another was fast upon them. The giant came at them, hammer held high. But it never came down. Maera’s spear and Rowan’s arrows brought the creature down, and Bleryn finished the fellow off with his own hammer.

  Beyond them, Khlened was engaged in a mismatched battle of morning stars—his own, though bugbear in size and heft, was still smaller than the fire giant’s. The Fist was using strategy, planning his own swings so the giant’s weapon wouldn’t rip his from his fingers. Before he could settle the match though, the giant snatched up a fallen sword and lunged. Khlened howled with pain and collapsed as the blade stabbed through his shoulder.

  Vlandar threw himself forward and dragged the barbarian aside as Agya stabbed both her long knives into the back of the guards knee. The guard yelped in surprise when the leg simply collapsed under him. Agya barely managed to get out of the way in time.

  The fallen guard lunged after the little thief, but Lhors charged forward with his spear, stabbing the fallen brute through the eye. Lhors turned, seeking the last guard, but he lay still, his armor red-hot and his hair smoking unpleasantly. Malowan’s fire-sword pinned him to the wall.

  “Easy, people,” Vlandar ordered. “Agya, you and Lhors keep watch. Bleryn, watch back the way Snurre came and make sure no one sneaks up on us. Malowan, see to Khlened’s wound.”

  The barbarian leaned against the wall. He was still standing, but blood coursed freely from his shoulder and he was obviously in agony. The paladin ran to him and began to lay hands upon the wound. Malowan’s hands glowed for the briefest instant, and the barbarian gasped in surprise. As the paladin stepped back, Khlened smiled and waved the healed arm freely. “Thank you, paladin,” he said. “I’m in your debt.”

  “Gerikh,” Vlandar continued, “if you can, find a way to disable the door Snurre went through so he can’t come after us with an army.”

  “He’s won’t,” Nemis replied evenly. “He’s gone to ground. That’s both a treasure cave and hiding place with no other way out.”

  Khlened looked up, his eyes bright at the mention of his favorite word.

  The mage sighed. “Forget it. The whole place is guarded by something snakelike, huge and nearly impossible to kill.”

  “No time,” Vlandar said tersely.

  “We need to go, now,” the mage whispered as he came back. “My beneath notice spell won’t hold much longer.”

  “No time like the present,” Vlandar said. “Which way though?”

  “Back where we came and up the north hall,” the mage replied promptly. “Remember, we’ve little time to waste here, even with Snurre in hiding.” He looked at Gerikh.

  Gerikh nodded. “I found the doorway and braced one of those long spears across it. It wont hold against a brute like that for long though.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Vlandar urged. He let Nemis take the lead.

  They headed back through the darkened hall, avoiding the dead ettins, and took the passage heading roughly north. This finally went straight north—a fairly long corridor lit at odd intervals by lanterns. The unmistakable, if distant, clatter of a kitchen came from the left, and the wall down a west-branching passage was lit brilliant red from some enormous fire.

  By now, Nemis was well up the hallway, his back against the east wall and two fingers across his lips. Guards there, he signed and sent his eyes sideways to where they could just make out a break in the black stone. The mage held up two fingers and drew a meaningful hand across his throat.

  Vlandar nodded grimly and brought up his sword, but Nemis pressed past him and stepped into the open, turning to face the opening as he brought his hands up, fists clenched.

  “Kill,” he rasped softly. Utter silence followed, then the muted clang of swords hitting the floor and two massive bodies falling onto them. The mage nodded in satisfaction and pointed up the hall.

  Lhors glanced anxiously at Malowan. The paladins lips were moving, probably in prayer for the dead guards, but he was quiet about it.

  The hall was still quiet. They stepped over dead guards and went on north, following Nemis.

  “The stairs down are just there,” the mage murmured. “There were no guards between here and the stairs the last time I was here, but that was years ago.”

  They made it down the long flight without incident. At the base of the stairs, they paused to rest. Lhors took a long drink from his bottle, and let the warm water sit on his tongue for some time before swallowing. He felt dry all the way through, and his lips were cracked.

  “This level I know,” Nemis said finally. “The passage east”—he pointed—“is a dead end. There’s a temple, guest quarters, and trolls that way—or were. I doubt anything’s changed. It had not in all the years Eclavdra had come here, and they were many more than all of my years. Still, unexpected guards do patrol at intervals in case someone is mad enough to break into this place. Walk warily.”

  “Trolls or somethin’ comin’ this way right now!” Khlened whispered tensely. “And we’re in the open. Back up the stairs?”

  “No,” Vlandar said as he scrambled to his feet. “Straight across into the passage.”

  They ran for it. Moments later a party of a dozen or more armed creatures clomped by and vanished around the bend, heading east.

  “The prison cells are nearby,” Nemis said after the din of heavy footsteps had faded. “Mal, I hope you will not—”

  “I have Agya to protect here, before anyone else,” the paladin broke in.

  “Good,” the mage said gravely. “Remember that.” His lips moved silently. “I’ve just set a silence and reveal enemy spell both. We should rest here a little. The drow guest chamber is not far away, and we need all our strength against them.”

  It was very dark in the lower level of the palace—dark, dry and hot. The place they hid was so dark that Lhors couldn’t tell whether it was a chamber, a passage, or a niche cut in the wall. There seemed to be dead air behind them, and a faint but unpleasant odor like things long dead. Lhors shuddered and forced his attentions elsewhere.

  Test your spears. You can do that by feel. Make certain the wood is not cracked or the points loose. He’d learned the trick from his father years earlier, how to do that in full dark and not lose a finger. The spears—he had only two left—were still in good shape. So were the expensive daggers that he’d nearly forgotten about. It took him a moment to remember Plowys’ name. After all that had happened since the fellow had died on their first foray into the Steading, Lhors was surprised he could remember that much at all. He was astonished when he counted up the long daytime rests that counted as their nights. Plowys had died only six days earlier, but it seemed like a distant memory. Lhors’ life had become little more than running, hiding, killing, and more hiding. In between were times of restless sleep that brought only bad
dreams.

  He thought Rowan and Maera were also checking their weaponry. Malowan and Nemis sat close together, talking very quietly. The two men were probably going over some magic they would use together. Whatever grievance the paladin might still have toward Nemis, he had set it aside for now.

  Lhors sighed and took another sip of tepid water. Drink small amounts, but often when you’ve little to see you through, his father had always told him. The bottle might get him through one full day, but not two. Water in this place…

  I’d never trust it, Lhors told himself. Malowan or Nemis could find water and possibly even cleanse it if there was time. If we dared to go looking for water. Nemis was right, the voice in the back of his mind whispered. This is no place for any of us. We’re all going to die here in the dark.

  Lhors pushed the gloomy voice away and wondered how much longer before they would move on and how much longer before they would battle these drow. They sound very dangerous. Perhaps, he thought, we really will all die in here—or all of us except Nemis. Suddenly, Lhors could understand why Khlened and some of the others didn’t fully trust the mage, especially since Nemis didn’t often explain himself unless Vlandar insisted.

  He gazed into the dimly lit hallway that ran south to north and across it to the stairway they’d come down. It was blessedly quiet up there. He couldn’t imagine that would last for long. Even if that horrid fat giant king can’t free himself from the place he hid, he mused. Some guard will come looking for him. They’ll see Gerikh’s bar across the way in and then…

  Lhors drew back as two brutish trolls suddenly stomped down the hall, hesitating at the staircase. His heart sank, and he feared discovery when the two turned to look his way. But Nemis’ protective spells were as good as the mage claimed. The two monsters tromped on south, hesitated a moment at the bend in the passage, then trod back north, their footsteps echoing and growing fainter until they ceased entirely.

  Vlandar sat next to him, back propped against the stone wall and legs stretched in front of him. He seemed fairly relaxed, content to let Malowan and Nemis work out their plans while he rested. Lhors reminded himself that so far, Vlandar and the others had kept them safe.